


green hours, blue rope

by orphan_account



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Dating, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, we were more alike than not, <br/>and gravitated toward each other, <br/>however wide the breach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. kisses, kisses everywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you tons and tons to my amazing beta Amy, without whom this would be a battlefield of the punctuation marks. All errors you find have surely been committed by my tinkering after her edit ;)

On the fifth of December, a few days before he turned nineteen, Touya Akira overcame the last obstacle on his path to the Meijin title. Ogata relinquished it from a previous three-year hold in an exceedingly exciting last game: they'd played all seven matches.

By the time the short, ostensive discussion of the last few hands ended the day was dusking into evening. When everyone finally started gathering up to leave, Akira could only think how glad he was that he was allowed to move from his cramped position. His back muscles were aching, and his suit felt painted on, the material clinging to his skin where he had been sweating during the day.

There were photographers waiting outside to document their faces at the momentous occasion. Go Weekly had sent at least three reporters to ask questions to both the players, and it was only the lateness and Ogata-san's facial expression that saved Akira from having to spend a few more hours answering questions. He was so tired that if he had been given a choice between jumping in joy and falling into bed, he would have certainly picked the bed.

He fought his way through the first few questions bravely until he felt a nudge at his side, and upon looking up, he caught the tail end of a look from Ogata. Then the older man turned towards the photographers who were pushing them closer together; instructing them on how to stand and shake hands. He could see the annoyance radiating from his former sensei, the impatience, and strangely, protectiveness he had not expected anymore.

After a few flashes, Ogata excused them, placed a hand on Akira's lower back and steered him towards the exit, away from the journalists and their cameras. Akira sent them a last relieved glance and then followed dutifully.

Ashiwara was waiting for them by the door when they reached the entrance hall of the tall building.

"There you are," he said happily. His smile only widened when he took in Ogata's facial expression. Thankfully, he didn't comment, turning to Akira instead. "Congratulations on the win. That was a spectacular game. I think Harumi-chan almost cried from nerves when they counted the territories in the end."

Akira found himself smiling back. "Thank you."

"That's not a proper reaction to a title win! You really should punch the air at least once, you know? You're far too poised for a kid your age. Live a little." Ashiwara winked. "Or is that too undignified for a Meijin?"

"No, no," Akira said, shaking his head and found himself blushing at the teasing. "I'm happy. I'm just tired. It's been a hard day. And a long couple of weeks."

"I bet. Come on. Ogata-san, are you driving home yourself? I am not driving you with that cigarette hanging from your lips. The last time you smoked in my car, I couldn't get the stink out for days..."

Akira was surprised to note that the annoyance and impatience he had felt from Ogata before was slowly lessening as Ashiwara spoke. Of course, he still didn't put the cigarette out even as they headed towards the car, but by the time they reached it Ogata's shoulders had relaxed enough that Akira could stop worrying that this night would end in a car crash.

"I'm throwing it out, I'm throwing it out," he grumbled when Ashiwara pointedly didn't unlock the car doors. "Stop fussing."

"Just looking out for my metal box. Nothing wrong with that. Right, Akira?" Ashiwara gave Akira a sunny grin. "Are you going to get yourself a shiny new car with the prize money? You should, you know. It's a great investment. Lots of fun."

Akira barely kept himself from grimacing at the thought. "I'm... not very fond of driving," he said in an attempt at diplomacy. There was, after all, no need to mention the two hydrants he'd crashed into during his first driving lesson, totaling a perfectly nice car. Or the poor old man on the bike he'd forced off the lane and into the sidewalk greenery.

"That's a pity. Maybe you're saving up for something else?" When Akira shook his head, Ashiwara sighed. "Get in the front then. You're getting the passenger seat today."

"No, he's not," Ogata said and reached for the passenger door.

"It's all right," Akira said, waving his hands at them both, embarrassed. "I'll take the back seat, I don't mind."

He was glad to have the space to himself, and leaned into the comfortable backrest, closing his eyes for just a moment while the two men squabbled in the front about the radio station. There was lightness in his limbs and a high in his head that he only ever felt lying in the hot water of a leisurely bath. He'd done it. He really had done it. Meijin. He'd have to defend it next year, but for now, he was holding the title.

He couldn't wait to see Shindou's face.

"Akira?"

"Hm?"

Ashiwara was giving him a curious look through the overhead mirror. "What's got you smiling so happily? Thinking about that party your friends are going to throw you in celebration?"

"Oh. Um." Akira hesitated, unsure how to word this without sounding completely pathetic. "I don't think - I just want a quiet evening, really. I'm just going to replay some of the situations of today's game later on, and then go to sleep early. The game was very exhausting."

He saw Ashiwara open his mouth in disbelief, ready to prod further, but Ogata just rolled his eyes and said, "You have your phone with you, right?", giving him a look that bore no contradiction.

"Yes," Akira said.

"Call Shindou. The brat's probably lounging about your house anyway; the way he's been spending time there lately, you'd think he lived there."

"I really shouldn't -"

"If he's not there, or on his way there, tell him to come there. We're going out."

Akira chewed his lower lip. "Ogata-sensei, I know you'd rather be anywhere else. There really isn't any need to take me out. If I wanted to, I'm perfectly capable finding a way to entertain myself. And Shindou's very busy. I doubt he'd have time to join even if he wanted to."

Ogata's eyebrows were raised. He didn't need to say a word.

Akira sighed. "Fine. I'll call him. But just a quiet dinner, all right?"

Ashiwara gave him another one of his bright smiles through the mirror. "Don't worry. I'm not going to let him take you to any seedy nightclubs. Your father would flay me alive."

Akira flushed at the thought and shook his head. "Dinner's fine. Thank you very much."

"But Ogata-san's right about one thing," Ashiwara said, waving his hand towards Akira's attire. "First, we're getting you home. You need to find something that won't make you look like you're turning seventy next week."

 

\- - - - -

 

Shindou arrived half an hour after Ashiwara had pulled up the car by the Touya residence. Ogata was taking up a permanent spot on the couch, staring into empty space as he smoked a cigarette; and Ashiwara had sent Akira upstairs with the order "to dress your age for once, Akira", whatever that meant.

There had been a fifteen-minute phone call from his parents, too. His mother had happily chirped how proud she was of him and his father had taken over the phone after a while, promising they'd be back from Korea in a week or two and that they'd have time then to discuss the game, like they'd always done with every important game till now.

Now, freshly showered and wrapped in one of the fluffy bathrobes he was yearly gifted by his aunt, Akira stared into his closet and wondered if changing into another suit would be missing Ashiwara's point.

He did not have time to decide before Shindou came barreling into the room with his usual enthusiasm and the biggest grin on his face. Akira forgot all about picking a new outfit. Instead, there was the scent of snow and winter cold and boy and Shindou wrapped all around him, engulfing him in a hug, and Akira trembled a little bit before he returned it, putting his arm gingerly around Shindou's thick-clad frame.

"Two avalanche joseki? What were you thinking?" Shindou yelped into his neck, muffled by the thick material of the bathrobe. "And your yose was spectacular. I wish that had been me, playing you."

Akira breathed out, and then it came, bubbled up inside him like spring showers, the happiness, pure joy that made his face burn, his fingertips tingle.

He didn't reply; they both knew what he'd been thinking during this last game, that he'd been thinking of Shindou when he'd placed his stones, What would he do? How would he play?, a clever plan against an opponent who knew most of Akira's regular, well-practiced strategies.

"You're shaking," Shindou said, pulling back to look into his eyes, and Akira forced himself to stop, take a deep breath and regain his composure. The smile did not leave his face, and it must have shown enough because Shindou just smiled back widely and said, "I don't think I've ever seen you this glowy."

Akira huffed and hid his face in his hands. "I need to dress. Ogata-sensei is forcing me to have a celebratory dinner."

Shindou cackled. "Of course he is. Not that he deserves it, losing against you like that. I knew he'd be the weak link in my flawless plan. I was so certain I'd win my first title before you did after all."

"Shindou," Akira chided. Then he remembered that he was still wearing the bathrobe, and that it was a very fetching rose color but not fit for company, and his knees were wobbly and weak form the hug still, so he grabbed Shindou by his shoulders and started shoving him towards the door. "I'm not dressed. You didn't even knock, you're so rude!"

"I was excited. Anyway, it's not like you're naked or anything. All right, all right, stop shoving, I'm going. I'll wait with Ashiwara-san, I think he's getting bored. Oh, and Ogata-san has found the bottle of French wine that was hidden in your pantry."

"He what? Shindou, keep him - or - I'll be right there. Give me a minute." Akira slammed the door shut and turned to the closet. Then he turned back and ripped it open again, relieved to find Shindou still standing there.

Their eyes met and Akira slowly raised his hand, touching Shindou's cheek. He enjoyed for once being on the other end of a blush. "Thank you," he said. "For coming."

Shindou's face turned even redder, and before he could start waving his arms and yelling about how this had nothing at all to do with Akira or wanting to be here or anything, Akira shut the door again.

A suit, then, he decided. A light suit. Maybe the light purple one for a change.

 

\- - - - -

 

Ashiwara took them all to a restaurant in one of the seedier part of Shinjuku, which surprisingly served some of the most delicious food Akira had ever had. He made sure not to indulge when he discovered that they had French wine on the card; still, by the time the main course was over, he felt more than a little tipsy from the Cabernet, so he excused himself for a breath of fresh air.

In the few hours since they had left the Go Institute, it had started to snow again. There was a sheet of it covering the ground before the restaurant, turned a brownish color. The cold cleared his head, but apparently not enough.

Standing under the dirty yellow lamp light by the restaurant front door, he closed his eyes, put his arms around himself and remembered the hugs from the past, a hand in his own to tug him along, or sometimes, a teasing touch on his nose. He thought of Shindou's laughter earlier, after the other boy had shown how he could balance a spoon on his forehead. Akira was glad he had agreed to this. Shindou made him feel happy.

He should have been able to read this far ahead but it still came as a surprise when it finally happened; when Shindou stumbled into his back, coming outside to check up on him, Akira turned around, took his face in both hands and pressed their lips together. It felt like it lasted the length of a blink.

Later he would remember the dumpsters to the far right side by the dirty building walls and the smell of burnt food from the kitchen; but in that moment, he felt like the bravest person in the world.

 

\- - - - -

 

The next morning, Akira ignored the sunlight streaming in through his window, promising a beautiful winter's day, and instead buried his face in his pillow. He groaned from both the headache and the memories coming back to him.

Today, he decided, is not a good day. Not a good day for getting up or facing anyone. He vaguely wondered, slowly rousing, if he could call in about the interview he had this morning to take a rain check and stay in his room until he got over the shame.

The thing was it wasn't the kiss. The kiss had been nice, despite the circumstances. He remembered, not at all foggy, the way Shindou's mouth went sweetly soft for him, opening up, tasting of the wagashi he'd had for dessert. Shindou had gasped in surprise and kissed Akira back, his cold hand catching Akira's as their hurried breaths turned to mist between them.

Akira thought about it while he washed up, and then of the suit that was lying ruined on the bathroom floor. The trousers looked like he'd sat down in the mud, but he didn't remember even leaning back against the wall never mind sitting down somewhere dirty. He must have, before Shindou had pulled away, giving him an unreadable look and vanishing back inside.

Akira rubbed his forehead a few times; he scrunched his eyes shut against the images and turned off the hot water. There was no point thinking about it.

Shindou had not acted as if anything at all had happened when Akira had returned to the table. Maybe they could ignore it and move on. Shindou would probably go back to dating other people and Akira would just... spend the rest of his life wallowing.

He shook himself and was especially rough toweling off. None of this, he told himself, catching his own gaze in the mirror. He guessed he wasn't ugly. He was great at Go. And his family had lots of money. There had to be someone in this city who would want to date him, surely? And if all else failed, well, his mother had been dropping hints about grandkids for months. She could certainly help.

He nodded at himself, rubbed his hair into shape and decided that it felt good having a plan. His parents were due back in Japan for his birthday in any case. He had a few days to try by himself before he engaged his mother's help.


	2. sometimes you have to make things fit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We weathered all things,  
> large and small,  
> with the same vigour.

Akira did not need to go looking for a date.

The afternoon two days later, when most of his responsibilities concerning the title win had been taken care of, he found Shindou lurking in front of his house. Unusual for him, he was stepping from foot to foot nervously, dressed in a suit ensemble of black and orange that clashed hideously with both his shoes and his hair. Akira fancied himself very good at observing these things.

Shindou was even more unusually holding a bouquet, made of beautiful purple and blue Forget-me-nots. Akira stared at him with dawning horror. He was not sure what would have been worse: Hikaru playing a tasteless prank or Hikaru being serious about this.

"Shindou," he greeted him, and was pleasantly surprised how even and confident his own voice sounded, considering he was seconds away from a meltdown. " _What_ are you doing?"

Shindou gave him a nervous look, glanced at the flowers, back at Akira, and said, "You like flowers, right?" He shoved them at Akira and added quickly, "Also, would you like to go on a date? With me?" They blinked at each other a few times. Shindou's expression ran through various permutations of mortification, stubbornness, terror and relief at having gotten the words out before he seemed to decide on puzzlement and asked, "Anyway, why are you not dressed up?"

"Possibly because I didn't get any advanced warning for your visit," Akira said icily. "Believe it or not, I don't always wear suits everywhere. Shindou, what _are_ you thinking?" He pushed the bouquet away, fighting a sneeze.

Shindou took it back, rolled his eyes and instead of answering, pushed past Akira into the house, heading straight for the kitchen. "Whatever," he said. "I bought these special for you. The least you could do is take them and put them in water so they don't die right away."

"They're already dead," Akira said. "They're cut. Why are you rummaging through the cupboards?"

Shindou found what he had been looking for. He let out a crow of triumph and held up the vase like a prize. Then he filled it with water and muttered, "I knew this wouldn't work out," under his breath while he sorted out the flowers and started putting them into the vase one by one. "Of course you would be difficult about it. Waya's full of shit anyway, no way this would have ever worked -"

"Waya?" Akira had to ask, interrupting Shindou's monologue. The thought of Hikaru's other best friend always left him with a weird sensation in his chest. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Shindou made a face. "I told him about the - the kiss. And stuff."

"You _told_ him?" Akira yelped.

"Not that it was you or anything! I wouldn't! I just asked what one would do if one had accidentally maybe kissed someone. A friend."

Akira had a sudden flashback to how the conversation had probably panned out.

"And the bastard said, ' _Shindou, you moron, you buy them a bunch of flowers, you know, nice ones, in the color they like, and then you just ask them on a date_.' Not that hard! Like hell! _He_ 's never worked up the guts -"

"Shindou," Akira interrupted him, again, drawing out the name in a way that made it sound like 'Idiot'. He was patently employing his 'Are you missing a brain?' voice, which he usually reserved for one of Hikaru's insane moves over the goban. "Shindou," he repeated, taking a deep breath. "Just in case you hadn't noticed: I am not actually a girl."

Shindou dropped the last of the flowers and turned to stare at him. "Uh, duh? I wouldn't be inviting you on a date if you were a girl _at all_ ," he said slowly, imitating Akira's tone down to the dot. "Because in case you hadn't noticed: _I_ am gay."

 

\- - - - -

 

They stared at each other in silence for a good half a minute. Then Akira closed his mouth.

"Oh," he heard himself say. And winced. That... did explain a lot.

"And anyway, boys like going on dates, too, dates are not just for girls. Or flowers." Hikaru had his eyes narrowed, as if daring Akira to contradict those statements. When Akira stayed silent, he let out a sharp hiss, turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, fists clenched.

It took Akira about two seconds to realize what he was supposed to do. He caught up with Shindou just as he was about to open the front door.

"Wait, Shindou, wait," he said, his breath catching in his throat. His stomach plummeted towards the floor. He tried not to think about how much easier it had been to be brave last night.

"What?" Shindou asked, turning his head. He looked ready for a fight.

"All right," Akira heard himself say. His fingernails were digging half-moons into his palm. "Yes. I want to go on a date."

 

\- - - - -

 

What Akira had thought of when Shindou had said 'date' was that they'd go out to Shindou's favorite ramen place, and then sit down for a hard game of Go.

The rather more formal outfit should have tipped him off.

Instead of a ramen place, Shindou took him to a highly exclusive restaurant on the first floor of a non-descript office building in Nishi-Shinjuku. They passed the screening - apparently Shindou had somehow found a way to make a reservation - but the trendy jacket Shindou was wearing to keep the winter cold at bay garnered a few looks while they were seated, possibly more so because of the suit over which he was wearing it.

Akira had been to some of these places, when his parents had had a reason for a small celebration, or when one of his father's associates had invited to a gathering to which children were allowed. From the moment they entered, he felt underdressed even in his expensive coat and the suit he had chosen.

To his big surprise, not expecting this from a restaurant picked by Shindou at all, Akira found out that it specialized in French cuisine, which flattered him so much that he almost forgot his doubtfulness.

"You went to that place in France at the beginning of the year. What was the name again?"

"Marseille."

"Right. I remember that you'd liked the food there," Shindou grinned, patting himself on the shoulder. "You kept talking about cheese this, fograss that -"

"Foie gras."

"- yeah, whatever. It's disgusting, I looked it up. But you liked it so much, so I thought this would be nice."

That was the instant when Akira should have realized that this would not go well.

When they ordered, Shindou thought the food names were hilarious and made fun of the French pronunciation. And that was just the beginning.

In the following hour, Akira watched in horror as Shindou wiped his mouth with the back of his hand repeatedly as if he had never learned to use a napkin. He had a sense of a slow-motion train wreck when Shindou, by accident, toppled over the glass of juice by his elbow. And then Shindou told the 'geezer' waiter to keep his hands off his hot body when he tried to help clean Shindou's suit, in a manner that was supposed to be a joke but fell very flat. Akira was about ready to sink into the floor from embarrassment.

But that part was not the worst thing about the evening. There was also the silence, looming between them like a toothless crater, so very different from their usual lively conversations when they walked to Akira's place together from the Go institute, never mind at the salon or in the house.

"I saw your father's game against the Korean pro last week," Shindou said into the awkwardness while they were waiting for their food. Akira had to admit to him that he had not found the time to go over the kifu, never mind watch a replay.

"Nase and I think Isumi has a girlfriend, and it's driving Waya crazy," Shindou tried, smiling at what seemed a fond memory of time with his friends. Akira smiled back politely from his side of the table, and said, "Ah." He liked Isumi best out of all of Shindou's friends, but that did not mean they had ever exchanged more than a few casual greetings.

He tried, unsuccessfully, to inquire about Shindou's family, and that was about the extent of his ideas when it came to useful topics of conversation. It was excruciatingly painful.

After an hour of silently picking at their food - _a waste_ , Akira thought secretly, because it was very good food - Shindou seemed to get the hint. He demanded the check from the 'geezer'. When he looked at it his eyes bugged out and he exclaimed, "What? You're kidding me! This much? It wasn't even all that good, ramen's much better."

It was no big secret why Akira came out of the restaurant judging the whole experience a disaster. He was sure he would not be showing his face in this particular place ever again.

"Ah," Shindou said, blinking back at the restaurant entrance as they hurried down the street, away from the building. "That went well." Akira clenched his teeth, his face still bright red. Shindou ducked his head guiltily and said, "I'll pay you back for the dinner, all right? I was just surprised. I just didn't think -"

"- to look up the prices? Of course you didn't." Akira gave an exasperated sigh. "Places like this serve people who don't care what their food costs. Gods, how do you ever manage to think ahead more than two hands at Go?"

"Go's different," Shindou said, grinning.

It was dark out already, and the moon was only partially visible. It smelled of snow again. Akira tilted his head forward, hiding his smile. One instance of Shindou being right, if maybe the only one.

Shindou touched his elbow. "Don't be mad?" he asked. "I've never been on a date before. No one's born perfect."

"No," Akira snorted. "But there are degrees of idiocy, and I think you surpass most newborns in that domain."

"Aw, come on. It wasn't that bad."

"Yes, it was," Akira said, and immediately felt very mean, even more so when he saw Shindou's face fall despite the brave smile he managed to keep up. "I mean - I guess I just wasn't expecting this - this sort of thing. How did you even get a reservation there? When you said date, I thought…"

"Thought what?" Shindou rubbed his arms from the cold. The jacket he was wearing could not be keeping him warm enough. They were heading towards the train station, just passing by the outskirts of a little park. The side street they were on was almost deserted; there was only one woman crossing the street in a hurry.

"That you wanted… you know." Akira stopped walking. A taxi passed them by. Shindou stopped as well and turned to face Akira, a quizzical look in his eyes.

Akira grabbed the hem of his jacket, stepped up, and planted a kiss on his mouth.

It was not meant to be. Their foreheads knocked together painfully, noses squashed, and their teeth clicked, leaving Akira with the impression Shindou had knocked out a few of them on this try.

"Ouch," he muttered, putting his hand to his mouth.

Shindou rubbed his forehead, frowning unhappily. "What was _that_?" he asked, looking confused.

"I was _trying_ to kiss you -"

"Yeah, I noticed. But with what, your brain?"

"Oh god just shut up already. This was a terrible idea." Akira put his arms around himself and started walking straight on towards the train station quickly, not looking back at Shindou.

Shindou did not protest. When Akira caught a glimpse of his face once they had arrived by the trains, it was a mask, not giving away anything. Shindou hardly ever looked like that. Akira forced himself not to read too much into it. Maybe Shindou was just thinking about something else already. He had probably expected something different from today too. Maybe now that they had tried this, they could move on and forget all about it. Shindou could go back to kissing other people who were much better at it.

The thought sent a spike of red-hot jealousy through him, but Akira forcibly ignored it.

"I'll be going home now," he said politely when his train pulled up. "I do hope you get home safely as well. Thank you for the lovely meal." He bowed quickly and ignored Shindou's sudden move in his direction, evading it swiftly to board the train.

 

\- - - - -

 

The train ride back was one of the longest Akira had ever been on, despite the fact that it hardly took more than twenty minutes.

His thoughts kept circling back to the arrested look on Shindou's face at being left, and the disappointment coursed through him, despite the fact that he wanted to be _glad_ that it hadn't worked out.

It was for the best, he told himself and stared out the window resolutely. He wasn't even gay, probably, so it had been a stupid idea to begin with.


	3. a game is a game is a game is a kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We played similar games,   
> declared the most obscure object   
> treasure,

On the following Saturday, they shared some of the best Go they had played since the finale of the Young Lion's Tournament in the spring the year before. The game was sharp, deep, and aggressive. Akira found himself falling behind in fuseki, taken aback by the hardness of Shindou's moves. He recovered quickly from his surprise and managed to build out a lead in the mid-game.

Yose decided, as it often did between them. They had not yet figured out why Shindou was sometimes able to connect in the end to complete a beautiful shape, and why sometimes, like this time, he overlooked simple chances to turn the table on his opponent.

Akira never let him get away with missed opportunities, pouncing on any weakness and exploiting it mercilessly. He won by four and a half moku after killing Shindou's right upper corner when the latter made a mistake extending there.

A crowd had gathered by the time the game was over. It sometimes did when instead of childish arguments, the silence of a competitive game echoed from their corner. Whispered commentary started as soon as Shindou reached to clear the board, the men discussing the placements and especially the end game.

"Extending on 15-9 was completely idiotic," Akira heard himself say before he could stop himself. "There was no way you could have gotten me into ko there."

"Wasn't what I was planning at all," Shindou said, letting his stones fall into the go ke, jutting out his chin. "If I hadn't fallen behind in mid-game, I could have turned that move into a trap and split your board in half right here, later." He pointed at the board triumphantly.

"But you did fall behind, so that hand was still idiotic." Akira took the last of his stones from the board to put them away. Then he looked up at their audience. It had thinned out since the end of the game. A few of the older players had taken off in expectance of another one of their epic fights.

"Should we discuss the game?" he asked the remaining crowd politely.

"Nooo," Shindou groaned. "Come on, I haven't eaten yet, and it's almost six. My grandmother is making teriyaki tonight, and she makes the _best_ teriyaki you'll ever taste. Aren't you hungry?"

Akira shrugged but then nodded. He was. Still, "Go ahead," he offered. "I don't mind if you leave, I can do it on my own."

"Touya-kun," Okuma-san said. He was one of the regulars who were always eager to sit down with Akira to talk over some of the more exciting situations that had happened on the board. "You should go have dinner with Shindou-kun. We wouldn't want you to miss out on the best teriyaki ever." He was chuckling, and a few of the other men joined in despite a general air of disappointment.

"What?" Shindou asked, blinking quickly, and then realized what he'd implied.

Akira hid his amusement. "I think I will be cooking for myself tonight. But thank you for the generous offer, Shindou."

"No!" Shindou was bright red. "You should definitely come for dinner. I'm sure my grandparents would be - I mean. My grandfather is a huge fan of your Go. And you probably can't even cook."

"Why, thank you," Akira said, and let the smile show finally so Shindou wouldn't die from lack of blood to his internal organs. He did look like most of his blood was currently streaming to his cheeks.

"I really hate you sometimes," Shindou told him. "Are you coming then? If you are, I'll give my grandmother a call."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"Oh, shut up. You're coming. I'm not going to beg you, I'm ordering you."

"Touya-kun really has no choice, in that case," Harumi laughed, coming up to their table. She'd left her usual post by the reception desk to take a look at their board, intrigued by the commotion. "Who won?"

"I did," Akira said, pleased, and had to work hard to suppress the childish impulse to stick out his tongue at Shindou when the other boy glowered and muttered, "Just because of one stupid move."

 

\- - - - -

 

Shindou's grandparents lived a few train minutes away from his parents' place. It was a nice house, but it had a strange quality about it that made Akira hesitate when he crossed the threshold. Thankfully, the sensation just lasted a second. Then Hikaru's grandparents were greeting them, asking them inside. Akira took off his shoes, put on the slippers he was handed, and was glad to be out of the bitter cold and the snowstorm that had begun to rage while they'd been on the train.

"I watched the Meijin title match on TV last week," Hikaru's grandfather said after Akira had handed over his jacket and greeted the kami-dana set up past the hallway. He led the way towards the living room and indicated for Akira to sit down. There was a beautiful goban displayed on one side of the room. "You did very well. Congratulations on the title."

"Thank you," Akira said. "Shindou tells me you play as well?"

"I did. I was very good when I was younger."

"Did he learn to play from you?" Akira asked, curious. But Shindou had said one time that he had learned to play from a friend. And then there was Sai, always Sai, who nobody knew anything about.

Hikaru's grandfather shook his head, smiling. "Not at all. He challenged me once, but it took him forever to lay the stones, so I sent him to take some classes. After that, he grew into the game very quickly."

Shindou appeared in the doorway. "Are you talking about me again?" he asked, putting his arms behind his head. "I know, I know. I'm very interesting."

"Don't flatter yourself," Akira said sharply, then remembered where he was and ducked his head.

"Well, it's a nice change. Whenever you're not here, he talks about _you_ all the time," Shindou smirked.

"Hikaru," his grandfather admonished. "Don't speak that way to your friend. How is dinner coming along? Did you help your grandmother in the kitchen?"

"If I can do anything to help -" Akira offered immediately, jumping up from his seat.

"It's fine. She threw me out of the kitchen. She doesn't want anyone interfering," Shindou sniffed. "Her loss. Hey, Touya, want to see something cool?"

Akira looked at him cautiously. He had a vague idea what kind of things Shindou considered 'cool', and he was not sure he wanted to see any of them.

"Don't worry," Shindou said, and his smile became meaner. "I'm not going to drag you into any bushes."

"Hikaru," his grandfather said again, his voice sharper.

"It's all right," Akira said, trying to smooth over any ruffled feathers he might have caused. "I'll go. When should we be back for dinner?"

"Half an hour," Shindou said before his grandfather could open his mouth.

"Hikaru, I wanted to ask Touya-kun for a game," his grandfather protested when Shindou started to drag him out by the wrist.

"You can play him later," Shindou said. "Or really, never. Your Go is way too soft. You'll only lose, even if he gives you a twenty-stone handicap."

"Hikaru!"

 

\- - - - -

 

"Shindou, stop yanking my arm out of my socket," Akira complained when Shindou did not let go and dragged him along down a hallway and then through a door, and another door. "Where are you taking me?"

"The attic," Shindou said. "Maybe he'll scare you to death and I'll be rid of you," he added almost inaudibly.

"I heard that," Akira said.

"Good."

"Look, if you want to talk in private, any room is fine."

That made Shindou stop. He let go of Akira's wrist and turned to face him. "Talk in private," he repeated. "Why would I do that?"

Akira's face flamed. "Well, because of the - things. We did. The date. And all."

"The one where you left me at the train station to find my own way home, because you couldn't wait to get away from me?" Shindou shrugged and turned to keep walking. "Forget it. I gave it my best shot, it apparently didn't impress you. I'm moving on."

"Shindou -"

"We're here." Hikaru took a flashlight from a closet by the wall and shone the light up towards the ceiling. A staircase led up to what was indeed the attic. He stopped at the bottom and grabbed the railing.

"Look," he said heavily, shining the flashlight into Akira's eyes. "I'd never even - I would have been content just being your friend, forever, and your eternal rival. As long as I can play you, I'm fine. You kissed _me_. So you figure it out."

It wasn't coherent, and yet it was one of the most mature things Akira had ever heard Hikaru say. He had no idea how to answer. The flashlight was blinding him and he put his hand up, shielding his face. It made him feel exposed.

"Yeah," Shindou said. "That's what I thought. Now, come on. I wanna check this out."

They climbed up in silence. It was not an uncomfortable silence. Akira glanced at Shindou's face and didn't see reproach or hate there, just hopeful excitement and a desire for something that had nothing at all to do with him. He suddenly felt lonely.

There were boxes and dust, and more boxes, a few cushions and old furniture stored in the attic. There was also one spot in the back that Shindou led him to that was arranged differently: it was reminiscent of a roadside shrine, except the centre piece of it was a goban. There were fresh flowers arranged around it, candles, a bowl with offerings. It struck him as very strange that Hikaru's grandparents would have something like this hidden up here.

"What does it mean?" he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. He was barely audible over the whistling of the wind outside.

Shindou caught his gaze. "It's Shuusaku's," he said.

"What?"

"The goban. It's his. I found it when I was twelve."

There was something else to the story, something he wasn't saying. _Sai_ , Akira thought silently, because whenever Shindou spoke of Shuusaku, the same expression entered his eyes as when he spoke of Sai. Maybe he was a god. The God of Go. Maybe he had appeared to Shindou one day, and taught him how to play. Akira stared at the goban. It would explain a few things.

Movement made him look away. Shindou sat down before the goban cross-legged. He had his eyes closed and his bottom lip was trembling. It was barely noticeable, but Akira noticed everything about him lately. Shivering from the cold, he did not dare move, didn't dare interrupt as Shindou traced the right upper corner of the goban with his fingers. Then Shindou gave a disappointed sigh and whispered, "He's not coming."

He didn't move from his seat. Akira knew it was time for them to get to dinner, but he didn't want to disturb Hikaru. What he wanted was to sit down next to him and close his eyes, and pray for Sai to come back, too. He almost did it. He moved one foot, then the other. He'd found his resolve, was right behind his friend, when Shindou suddenly hopped up. His eyes were brighter, no longer veiled by the grief like when he'd been looking at the goban.

"We should go," Shindou said. "Food!" He pumped his fist and took off for the stairs to get back down. "Last one to the kitchen has to play grandpa and force a draw!"

 

\- - - - -

 

By the time they had finished dinner, Akira was the new favorite of Shindou's grandmother. She was an enthusiastic woman in her sixties who very much reminded Akira of Shindou himself. He watched her as she plied the kitchen appliances, the way she busied herself in the kitchen with the food, and he saw where Shindou got all his energy and his mannerism.

"Such a polite boy," she gushed when he offered to help with the dishes. Unlike Shindou, whose offer had been spurned, she granted Akira entrance into her realm. He could feel Shindou's glare in his back and sent him a winsome smile for departure.

Afterwards, he played a game, his penance for being last to dinner, and it turned out to be very good Go. Shindou's grandfather was not a master player, but he had interesting ideas and was never afraid to go for the courageous move instead of the safe one. It was one more trait Akira recognized from Shindou, one he appreciated greatly in a world where most of his opponents were known to win by playing conservative, traditional hands.

When Akira looked at the clock once the game was over, he was shocked to discover that it was close to eleven o'clock.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, mortified. "I should be long on my way home. I didn't notice the time was so late."

"Nonsense," Hikaru's grandmother reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder to force him to sit back down. She was stronger than she looked. "There is no way I'm letting you boys go anywhere tonight. The storm out there has been getting worse, and who knows what kind of people hang around the streets at this time of the night. No, no, no. If you need to call your parents, feel free to use the phone, but you're sleeping here. I'll go prepare the guest room."

"Please, don't go to any trouble. I can go home; I don't live that far -"

Shindou snorted. "Just halfway across town. Don't be dumb, Touya. And anyway, aren't your parents still in Korea? There's no one at your house right now. Wouldn't want you to get scared."

"I'm not scared of storms!"

"It doesn't matter," Hikaru's grandfather said. "No one's going out tonight and that's that."

And that, apparently, was that. Akira ducked his head and thanked a thousand times, very grateful for their hospitality and kindness.

 

\- - - - -

 

"Shindou?" he asked half an hour later, when they were both wrapped up in thick covers, lying on the futons in the guest room. It was nicely warm and cozy, with a tree moving in front of the window. He could see the snow piled up on the windowsill.

"Yes?" Shindou yawned. His face was mashed into his pillow.

They were lying just inches apart, and Akira could see his eyelashes brush his cheekbones from this distance. He curled his fingers to a fist to keep them from twitching, or worse, reaching out to touch.   
"I really like your family."

"Thanks," Shindou said. "I'll tell them. My grandma will flip. She loves you. Maybe you should marry her."

Akira kicked in his direction. "Shut up."

"Mh. Don't kick me."

The minutes ticked by.

"Shindou?" he said again.

Shindou's breath had relaxed, coming in even intervals now. "Mh-mh?" he exhaled. He didn't sound very awake anymore.

"I really like you, too," Akira said. His stomach was liquid from nerves, sloshing around inside. A second after he'd said it, he wished he could take back the clumsy words, say it someway that would make him sound more suave and worldly.

But Shindou didn't care. "Mh-mh," he just murmured. "I like you, too. Moron."

"Maybe you _should_ drag me into some bushes," Akira mused, and smiled when Shindou made a sound that was suspiciously close to a groan.

"Why do you have to be such a pain?" Shindou asked, hitting his pillow with his forehead. He was definitely awake again when he lifted his head and sat up halfway. "I'm not taking you out on any expensive dates again, though," he warned. "You missed your chance to have awesome, awe-inspiring, awe-inducing dates with me. There will be no more restaurants. Unless it's serving ramen."

"How about roller coasters?" Akira said. He yawned, rose to sit as well, and put his arms around his folded legs. His chin hit his knees and he returned Shindou's look. This wasn't so bad, he told himself. Being afraid wasn't so bad. He could deal with trembling from fear. If Shindou would just finally _do_ something. He swallowed dryly. "I hear those Ferris wheels are a huge hit for - for couples."

"I'm just doing this out of pity," Shindou announced. "Because you're pathetic, and no one else will ever want you. Because let's be honest, your hair is stupid."

Akira gasped. "My hair is not stupid!"

"Sure it is," Shindou said. "And you're a terrible kisser. Absolutely terrible. You need to get some practice in. I'm willing to make the sacrifice, but don't think it's going to be for free."

He crawled over the two feet to Akira's futon on hands and knees and settled down beside him. His grandmother had found some old pyjamas for them to wear, and Shindou had ended up in light blue with kittens floating around in big hearts. He looked ridiculous, but he also looked lovely and beautiful and his eyes were sparkling.

"My hair's not stupid," Akira started to protest. He didn't get much further, distracted by Shindou’s mouth.


	4. pure joy at the sight of your pretty face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we often puzzled   
> friends and acquaintances   
> by our indefinable devotion.

Akira didn't see Shindou for a while after that night. He had a preliminary game on Sunday. Then his parents returned on Monday, and the house felt no longer as abandoned and lonely as it did in their absence. There was, of course, a downside to this: he was bound to their rules again, losing many of his little freedoms. Sometimes he wondered if maybe it was time to move out after all. But he knew that he would not need to. They were flying out again in a week or two, to China, or Europe, or America. Wherever the search led them.

His birthday fell on Tuesday. They celebrated as always; his parents let him sleep in, and then they ate a small breakfast before he played Go against his father.

"You should have invited Shindou-kun for the evening," his father interrupted the comfortable silence when Akira took his time thinking over his next hand leading them into yose.

Akira gave him a suspicious look and saw that he was almost smiling. Since he had retired, he seemed to smile a lot more. It made Akira's heart feel warm in his chest whenever the corners of his father's mouth lifted in humor.

He lost by half a moku with no handicap. He'd gotten better again, but his father had not rested his game either. Akira had not realized it so much during his father's absence, but now he felt more than ever how much he missed playing Go together. The few games they had played in the past days since his parents had returned had been a welcome change of pace, reminiscent of his childhood.

 

There was a tea ceremony in the afternoon, and the three of them sat together afterwards. He'd bought his mother a digital camera for her birthday two months before, and she had taken thousands of pictures abroad. Only a few hundred were printed out, but it was still a lot, and she made Akira look at them all as she told him what she'd experienced.

While his father had been playing Korean pros and insei, she had made friends and enthusiastically accepted their invitations to sightsee and drive into the countryside and discover more of the foreign country. Akira was a bit surprised, but pleasantly so. He'd never known his mother to be an adventurer. In a way, he was glad there were still things he could discover about his parents, even now; and he was happy she was having so much fun. He had been worried she would be bored on the trips.

In the early evening, Akira took a long bath and finally went to sleep well rested from the day. It had been a relief from his usual busy schedule. He slept well that night. He didn't remember it when he woke up, but while he slept, he dreamt of playing Go with Shindou on Shuusaku's goban, a white ghostly figure smiling down upon them from above.

 

\- - - - -

 

The next morning Akira woke early. His cell phone rang just as he was preparing breakfast for his parents and himself, and he wasn't at all surprised when Shindou crowed a happy, "Good morning, Touya!" into his ear.

"Morning, Shindou. What is it?" he asked. He hoped he wouldn't burn the miso soup when Shindou distracted him. Shindou was very good at that. Akira's cheeks heated up at the thought.

"Don't sound so excited to hear from me," Shindou teased.

"I'm making breakfast. I can't get excited or I'll burn it."

"Ah. Did your parents arrive okay?"

"Yes, thank you. I will give them your regards."

"Good. Good, good." There was a suspicious bout of silence, then Shindou said, "Any chance you can get away today?"

Touya thought about it. He had a tutoring session tomorrow afternoon, and of course, the game against Morishita 9-dan in the morning. He had to be at his best for that game. His father would be there to watch it. But that was tomorrow. His parents had not given any indications that there were plans for today.

"I will need to be back by nightfall at the latest," he said. "But if that were the case - yes. I can probably get away today."

"Great. Because I'm on my way to your house. We can play a game, and then we'll go out." Shindou sounded delighted with himself.

Akira did not want this day to end in disaster again, so he asked, "You're not bringing me flowers, are you?"

"No flowers," Shindou promised.

"But it's. Um. Is it just friendly?"

Shindou huffed into his ear. "You really should make up your mind about that some time soon," he said snippily. "I'll be there in ten minutes or so. Then _you_ can tell me." He hung up.

Akira stared at the phone. When he smelled the burned bottom of the pot in which his breakfast was miserably turning to coal, he had to bite back the curse on the tip of the tongue.

 

\- - - - -

 

"Any progress on your decision of whether or not you want this to be a date?" Shindou asked bluntly, when they sat opposite each other by the goban half an hour later. Having an insatiable appetite, he'd joined Akira and his family in breakfast uninvited. Akira had never met anyone so rude in his life.

"No," he said, placing a stone into the lower left corner where it would wreak havoc on Shindou's formation later in the game.

"No, no progress, or no, it's not a date?"

"No, I don't know yet," Akira bit out, annoyed. "Concentrate, Shindou. You just gave up a whole cluster over here. If this is the game you want to play, you'll be resigning in a few minutes."

But for once, Shindou didn't take the bait. Instead, he ignored the diversion and went straight back to the main issue. It was like he was playing Go with Akira on another level, away from the board.

"What's the problem?" he asked. "You like me. You told me so yourself. And you _clearly_ liked it when we kissed Saturday."

"It's not -" Akira bit his lip. "I did. But I don't want to have to tell people. Or, or not people. I don't care about people, but. My parents."

Shindou grinned a bit. "Your mother _must_ know. She would never dress you like that if she thought you were straight."

"I dress myself," Akira said indignantly.

"You didn't when you were a child. You must have picked up the habit from somewhere, after all."

"What habit?"

Shindou eyed his purple cardigan with distaste. "Some day, you will follow me like a good little slave boy while I use your credit card to buy you clothes that will actually make you look hot. And you'll love it, too. Until then: stop freaking out. I'm not asking you to marry me."

"Like I would!"

"You should be so lucky." Shindou kicked him back when Akira made a tentative kick towards his foot from his side of the goban. "Look, I've only told my dad and my grandparents, too. Still working up the courage to tell my mother. This is just for me. I'd like to know whether or not I'm allowed to kiss you sometime." He gave a winsome smile. "To comfort you when Morishita-sensei beats the pants off you tomorrow, for example."

"You're coming to watch?"

"Yes. So, can I?" Shindou caught his gaze and held it, not letting it drop. He didn't look afraid, but he did look vulnerable, like he was expecting to be shot down after all this.

Akira put his hands in front of his face and squeezed his eyes shut. No getting out of it this time. He didn't know why he was hesitating except the fact that this was terrifying. Shindou had to be crazy, putting his heart on the line like that. Akira knew he'd never have found the courage.

"Yes?" he finally said. His voice sounded soft and tentative. He wanted everything, the games they'd play, the dates, the kisses. Especially the kisses. And touching, and waking up with Shindou wrapped around him like a human cocoon one day at some point in the future.

"Great," Shindou said. He made a big show of putting his arms behind his head and yawning, like he didn't care at all. Akira could see how relieved he was, though; it showed in his face and in the tension melting from his shoulders. "I still think your mother knew from the day of your birth and taught you the gay dress code on purpose."

"She did not!"

"She did too. Oh, and it's your turn. Your last two hands _were_ utterly useless, by the way, I wonder what had you distracted like that..."

"I am going to _decimate_ you!"

 

\- - - - -

 

Shindou, without a hint of irony, took Akira on multiple trains across the city before they got out at Kasai Rinkai Koen Station, at which point Akira had another premonition.

"Tell me we're not going where I think we're going," he tried to intercept, having learned from their last attempt at a date.

"Your brain works very differently from anyone else's," Shindou said with a grin. "I have no idea what you're thinking."

"Shindou, if you're taking me into the park -"

He was. They crossed the entrance before Akira could finish the sentence.

"Shindou, I was _joking_ ," he tried again. "I do not actually want to go on a Ferris wheel with you."

"Yes, well. I want to. It's very romantic and things. Everyone does it. And you did say you don't care about people seeing us, as long as it's no one you know."

"That's not the point."

"What's the point?"

The park was deserted at this time of the year. The trees barely held leaves, and the ground was covered with flecks of the mostly-melted snow that was leftover from the storm a few days ago. Akira was starting to think Shindou had brain damage. His breath turned to mist at his mouth when he said, "Shindou, I'm afraid of heights."

Shindou stopped walking. "Oh," he said. His expression turned guilty. "Oh, right. I remember. You weren't so well on the plane to Korea either, those two times we flew."

" _I really wasn't_."

"Oh," Shindou repeated. "That's - unfortunate."

"And secondly, there was a snow storm not so long ago, which might have done some damage. And it's so cold that no one's here but us. There is no way the Ferris wheel is going to be operational."

Akira was right, of course. When they approached it, it became clear quickly that the huge wheel Shindou had been planning to defile in honored tradition was standing still, and that no one was operating it from the booth. There was not a single car in the parking lot. There was, however, a big sign which read, "Out of Order", attached to the entrance.

Shindou groaned. "The forces of the universe are conspiring against me."

Akira patted his arm in consolation. "I'm really cold," he said. "And my fingers are freezing. Can we go home now, please?"

"Yes," Shindou said, and Akira was just about to breathe a sigh of relief, when he put up a finger and said, "No! I have an idea."

Akira wanted to shake him.

 

\- - - - -

 

For a change, Shindou's idea was not so bad. They found a cozy little coffee shop near the park and sat down at one of the tables, ordering hot chocolate and tea and little pieces of cake they saw on display. It was lovingly decorated with comfortable furniture, and there were just enough people to leave a low hum in the background, but not so many that the place seemed crowded.

Still, Akira couldn't help but open his mouth -

"Don't say it," Shindou fell in before he could utter a word. "Don't even."

Akira closed his mouth.

Shindou gave him a brilliant smile and turned his head to look out the window. People were passing by on the street outside. He didn't watch them, instead staring at his own reflection. "Some day," he said lowly into the space, "I'll do that, you know? Kiss my boyfriend on the highest point of the Ferris wheel. Like all the other couples." His smile turned sad around the corners. He hooked his foot around Akira's under the table.

Akira looked at his face, the longing in his eyes, and was surprised by how desperately he wanted to be there, with him, kissing him back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way about anything that wasn't Go.

 

\- - - - -

 

Shindou stole a kiss at the coffee shop, tugging him close when it seemed like no one was looking their way, and another on the train where they had picked an empty seat in the far back. Both times, Akira tilted his head back and allowed it, feeling apprehensive of the overtness, but enjoyed it too, every moment of the pure, undiluted attention from Hikaru the kisses signified.

They returned to Akira's house long before the curfew he'd set himself, and instead of kicking Hikaru out, Akira invited him in.

In Akira's room, they could kiss more freely, lying side by side on his futon, Hikaru pressing into him eagerly, curling and arching his back like a kitten. There were hands, this time, exploring skin underneath their clothing while the kisses turned open-mouthed. It didn't take very long before Hikaru broke off, breathing heavily. He rolled onto his back and laid there, staring at the ceiling, eyes glazed and dreamy.

 _That's what it feels like_ , Akira thought and carefully put his forehead against Hikaru's upper arm, breathing in his scent. _Glazed and dreamy_. Kissing Shindou Hikaru. He hadn't thought about it much, before, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

"I don't think my mother knows," he said, returning to the earlier argument, and when Hikaru made a protesting sound, he said what he really wanted to say; he said, "But I think my father does."

Hikaru shook then, _in laughter_ , Akira realized, and forgot to be offended when it occurred to him how right Hikaru was to laugh about this. Of course he was. Touya Kouyo was one of the best Go players in the world. It should have been obvious.

"I'll still tell him about you and me, if you don't mind. Later."

He felt Hikaru tense against him, growing completely still, and then relaxing. His fingers traced Akira's jaw line, caressing his cheek.

Akira lifted his head, caught Hikaru's lips with his own. Hikaru's hand was cupping his cheek as they kissed. It felt good. Safe.

They broke apart, and returned each other's smiles, one silly, one shy.

"But first, there's a two-and-a-half moku loss with your name on it," Shindou panted, sitting up straight; a challenge if Akira'd ever heard one. "I still owe you payback for that game on Saturday."

"A noble goal," Akira said, lifting his chin. "Or I should say... unattainable."

"Oh, we'll see all about that! I have completely new weaponry now!"

Akira laughed happily and pulled the goban closer, ready to nigiri.


End file.
